House of Revenge
by Rhi
Summary: Greg House, in a typically benevolent mood after a particularly annoying case...or patient... does something evil to one of his coworkers. Hilarity ensues...at least, House thinks so.


**House of Revenge

* * *

**

"You went..."

"That's right."

"You went up to the maintenance room on the fifth floor and..."

"Yep."

"And you shut down the elevator?"

"Sure did."

Dr. James Wilson stared at his long-time friend and part-time annoyance, Dr. Gregory House. The latter was currently sprawled in the chair behind his desk, tapping his cane against the ground and looking demonically chipper. This was because he had just engaged in a horribly evil, and possibly illegal, act of spite. Not to mention vandalism. Cuddy would have his head if she found out...

"Don't tell Cuddy. It was only for three hours, anyway." House said, as if reading Wilson's thoughts. He stared in horror.

"Three HOURS?"

"Come on. Those two DESERVE each other."

"She could've died!"

"Who? Cameron or the patient?" House grinned nastily.

"That was completely unethical and unusually manipulative, even for _you_. I heard Cameron went home early! She never goes home early! Chase told me she was crying!"

House just shrugged and set his cane aside, opening a drawer in the desk and withdrawing his Gameboy. He turned it on and promptly proceeded to pretend Wilson wasn't there.

What had happened was this: House had acquired a new patient. This in itself was a frightening event, as it meant House actually had to get off his ass and _work_ for his money, which he found quite unfair. But this case was especially cruel. Excessively so, in House's opinion.

The patient was twenty-four-year-old Jill Sumner, who talked. A lot. All the time, in fact. House had barely been able to get a word in when he'd first met her.

She had complained of chest pains. The source was most likely her lungs as she never shut up long enough to draw breath. She had talked during the tests, too. Not about anything interesting or memorable. Just...talked. All. The. Damn. Time.

Worst thing of all? It was Dr. Allison Cameron, resident busybody and cuddly Carebear, who had dumped this horrible chatterbox of a woman upon the poor, trusting Dr. Greg House. Usually Cameron came up with interesting cases. This one was just frustrating.

House had been almost relieved when Jill had gone into a coma.

It had turned out to be a blood clot. The coma had been induced by the clot, which had been blocking off blood-flow to her brain. Fortunately they'd been able to locate it and remove it before Jill had sustained any permanent brain damage. House had wished her ability to speak had been compromised, but alas, as soon as she had woken up Jill had begun to talk - and hadn't shut up since.

Roughly four hours ago, Jill Sumner had been discharged. Cameron had volunteered to escort her out of the hospital, and cheerily hopped into the elevator with wheelchair-bound Jill.

And then House did something very nasty. He went up to the maintenance room, paid off the janitor, and shut down elevator number two for three hours. Cameron - at least House thought it was Cameron - had tried the emergency phone and House had disconnected it on the third ring. Perhaps that had been taking it too far, but Cameron had refused to believe Jill's talking was as annoying as House thought and she needed convincing, _badly_.

Well, apparently she had been convinced, if her going home early was any indication. Everyone else, on the other hand, had a fresh case of the Hates for poor old Dr. House, who had only been trying to teach his inferior a lesson. Or so he would claim in court, if it came up.

"House!"

And there it was. The grating dulcet tones of Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Chief of Medicine and one of the banes of House's existence, drilled into his head like jackhammers. She came storming into his office, completely ignoring the befuddled Wilson, and placed her palms flat on House's desk, leaning in to glare at him.

House lowered his Gameboy slightly and cast an appreciative glance downwards. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your companies? Uh, company," he corrected himself, dragging his gaze unwillingly up to Cuddy's scowling face, which was a far worse sight to look at than her…companies.

"What did you think you were doing?" Cuddy said, not precisely shouting but not whispering, either. House shot an accusatory glance at Wilson, who shrugged and put his hands up in a palms-out 'It wasn't me!' gesture.

"You could've sent Cameron and Ms. Sumner plunging to their deaths at the bottom of that elevator shaft!" Cuddy continued, reaching out and yanking the Gameboy from House's grasp. She was pissed, and apparently suicidal as well - _nobody_ touched House's toys. "And paying off the janitor! He does more work in this place than you do! That reminds me, I should give him a raise for coming to me with this."

"The janitor tattled on me?" House exclaimed, taken aback. "Well, that's the last time I shell out five bucks for his silence, which is apparently worth nothing at all!" He slapped his palms down on his desk, standing up and reaching for his cane. "Well, I'm out of here…"

"Not so fast!" Cuddy barred his way. "It's a wonder Ms. Sumner isn't suing," she said, breathing heavily as she tried to stare House down. It was like trying to win a staring contest with a brick wall.

"You didn't tell her it was me, did you?"

"No," Cuddy conceded. "I told her it was a malfunction. She could still sue, though, and if she does…you're liable, House."

"Ooh, I'm scared." Grinning, House turned and hobbled quickly towards the door. Cuddy stared at his retreating back with increasing fury. Wilson stepped forward, trying to avert an eruption of vocano-like anger from the already volatile Cuddy.

"Look, Lisa, I'm sure House didn't mean-"

"Any harm? Yeah, right. Cameron told me why you did it, House. I can't believe you. Punishing her for treating a patient who pissed you off? That's a new low."

House paused at the door, looked over his shoulder. "It was worth it." And, giving Wilson a wink and Cuddy a casual wave, he hurried away down the hall, humming happily to himself for a job well done.


End file.
